


if tonight makes a difference

by kirinokisu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 15:25:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4310427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirinokisu/pseuds/kirinokisu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Kuroo were to be completely honest with himself, he could admit that he may have exaggerated the state of his inebriation when the door to his apartment was opened not by his roommate, but by his neighbour. A grumpy, sleepy and undeniably (annoyingly) cute neighbour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if tonight makes a difference

**Author's Note:**

> Written for KuroTsuki week (and a half) on tumblr. For the prompt 'college'. Although the college part is in the background only.

\- - -

If Kuroo were to be completely honest with himself, he could admit that he may have exaggerated the state of his inebriation when the door to his apartment swung open and it wasn't Kenma’s blank face that greeted him. Luckily, he was inebriated just enough to not be completely honest.

“Tsukki, what brings you to my humble abode so early in the morning?” His lips stretched into a lopsided leer on their own accord, “Or so late in the night, depending on the perspective.” The words felt strange on his tongue, almost foreign, with too many syllables Kuroo did not know how to pronounce. No wonder they ended up sounding a little bit slurred even to his own ears. Or a lot, judging by Tsukishima's uncharacteristic display of visible perplexity.

It morphed into a familiar expression of overly pretentious condescendence mixed with a frustrating amount of irritation all too soon. “Kuroo-san, at your age you should be able to successfully distinguish 12 from 13. They teach that at pre-school.”

A part of Kuroo felt exhilarated by the simple truth of Tsukishima remembering his name. The other part was just confused as hell. Tsukishima waited, looking unimpressed as he leaned against the door frame. His eyes appeared tired behind the glasses and his hair curled more than usual at the ends, but his clothes were casual and didn't seem slept in.

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, and Kuroo realised he had been staring. Waving the awkwardness off with a teasing grin, he took a shaky step backwards, almost tripping over his own feet. It took him a moment to fully steady himself.

“Oh,” he said when his eyes landed on the neat metallic number etched on the grey door. “I don’t think this is where I live.” It was kind of funny, so Kuroo laughed merrily. He felt happy and a little drunk and the dim light coming from the apartment behind Tsukishima softened the boy’s features just right, to the point of unbearably pretty.

He told Tsukishima as much. And before he could even blink, the door was shut right in his face.

Kuroo cursed.

Shoulders slumped, he made his way to the apartment on the left, careful not to trip over the lone stone step in front of the door. He pressed his fingers to the doorbell, but it echoed hollow in the empty apartment. Frowning, he let it ring for a while, thinking that maybe Kenma was wearing headphones. Until the annoying sound slowly reminded him that his only roommate was out of town for the weekend.

Feeling suddenly exhausted, Kuroo dug into the front pockets of his jeans, cursing his life and the universe and Bokuto, both for good measure and for the tequila. “Huh,” he murmured into the darkness of the night when there was no jingle of keys. He palmed the pockets on the back too, even if it wasn't in his habit to carry anything in them after having lost too many things too many times, and found them unsurprisingly empty. He looked up, at the balcony hallway connecting the second floor apartments. It was depressingly grey and peeling. “Why me.”

He weighted his options carefully, working through the background buzz in his head.

Kenma wouldn't be back until tomorrow evening, Bokuto was probably still blissfully passed out on Konoha's couch and would be no help anyway, and Kuroo's phone had died a valiant death during an epic twitter battle with Lev and Inuoka.

So, Kuroo felt completely justified, and just a tiny bit giddy, when he rang Tsukishima's door again.

“I seem to have forgotten my keys,” he admitted under Tsukishima’s disbelieving stare. “And Kenma, my roommate, is out of town so... Could I maybe borrow your phone?” He could crash at Akaashi's, he rationalised. Pick up Bokuto on his way while he's at it, too, though he wasn't sure whether that would be appreciated or not. Bokuto was a riot when drunk. “And Akaashi's number.”

“Why would I have his number?”

Kuroo frowned. “Why would you not have his number?”

“We share one single class together.”

“You also shared lunch together, on more than one occasion,” Kuroo argued. That's how he met Tsukishima in the first place. Two years apart and majoring in completely different fields, it wasn't a wonder they haven't met before. Or much after. Not to say that Kuroo hadn’t tried after that warm and sunny afternoon when the stars had been aligned and his lecture had got cancelled on the same day Tsukishima decided to sit with Akaashi. Bokuto still hadn’t let him live down his apparently starstruck expression afterwards, but really, Bokuto was one to talk.

“That doesn't make us friends.”

“Introverts,” Kuroo muttered, emphasising his suffering further with a sigh. He could still call Kenma, because that number he could probably recite in his sleep. Came with being childhood friends, he supposed. But Kenma would worry, discreetly yet completely naturally. Possibly enough to cut his trip shorter. Kuroo did not want that.

He raked a hand through his hair, which probably didn't do wonders to it, in retrospect. “Guess I'm fucked then, huh.”

Tsukishima shifted uncomfortably in the doorway, interlacing his fingers in front of him.

He looked so young like this, Kuroo thought. So much more like the freshman he was. And so annoyingly, irritatingly cute.

Kuroo mustered an easy smile and took a step back. “Catch ya later, Tsukki.”

He'd learned his lesson, he told himself as he turned around. Got the point loud and clear. No need for a repeat.

But he must have spun too quickly, too suddenly, because the next thing he knew was his legs tangling awkwardly together and the steady, unstoppable feeling of falling, falling, falling. Ah, but of course, when the universe gave you crap, it did not hold back.

He reconsidered that thought when long arms wrapped around his chest, grounding him in place. Keeping him safe. Embracing him.

The wild, deafening beat of his heart made it hard to process even the simplest of thoughts, let alone something as incomprehensible as Tsukishima catching him.

Behind them, a door clicked shut, the sound of it ominously audible in the fallen silence.

\- - -

“So, Tsukki—” Kuroo found himself saying once they had settled comfortably on the narrow strip of concrete lining the front wall of the apartment building. It was cold and it was dirty and it probably said a lot that Kuroo didn't mind any of that as he looked at Tsukishima sitting right beside him.

Looking very grumpy as he said, “Don't call me that.”

“Aw, but Tsukki—”

“Don't talk to me at all.”

“I thought you lived with your brother?” Kuroo had seen the older Tsukishima a couple of times, bumping into him in the lobby while getting mail or running late to university. But when he had tried ringing the doorbell under Tsukishima’s judgemental stare, nobody had answered.

Kuroo wasn't going to let this opportunity to pry something, anything out of Tsukishima slide by.

Tsukishima closed his eyes and in this single gesture, packed so much disdain it almost amazed Kuroo.

“Tsukki.” The lack of reply stung, just a little, but didn't stop Kuroo from trying again. “Tsukkiiii,” he whined louder.

Tsukishima sighed and sagged further down the wall. Somehow, he managed to appear ridiculously put together despite the obviously well-worn baggy t-shirt that made him look even more lanky than usual and did all sorts of funny things to Kuroo.

“He's doing his placement at a private clinic.” It was spoken so softly that if Kuroo's attention wasn't focused solely on Tsukishima, he would have missed it despite the proximity. He also didn't miss the hint of something akin to pride.

Kuroo hummed in understanding, and in delight. “Night shift, then?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Tsukishima nodded briskly.

Very much aware of how once in a lifetime his current situation was, Kuroo left it at that. Keeping his tone as casual as possible, he took a ridiculous leap of stupid, such stupid faith. “We don't actually have to camp here all night, you know.”

“It's three in the morning. Everything's closed. Including the locksmiths.”

Stupid, Kuroo thought again, so stupid. “And here I was under the impression it was already freezing here,” he joked, making an exaggerated display of shivering. “You didn’t have to make it worse.”

It really was cold though. The heavy rain that had been pouring all day had finally stopped, but the night was hardly more forgiving. Even less so to those sitting on the ground, doing nothing.

It took some fumbling but with the right amount of determination, Kuroo managed to weasel out of his denim jacket without any terrific accidents. There was no reluctance in him as he handed it to Tsukishima.

“Here,” he said softly. “You're gonna catch a cold.”

Tsukishima’s face was blank. “So will you.”

“This all is my fault,” Kuroo shrugged.

“It is.”

Kuroo covered his wince with a grin and a suggestive, “Of course, we can always cuddle,” emphasised with an even more suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows. He was glad Tsukishima wasn't even looking at him properly because somehow it felt like Kuroo’s control of his own facial muscles was a bit off.

“Or you can just keep it.”

“Or I can annoy you until you take it.” It wasn't even a lie, and it worked.

“You'll annoy me anyway,” Tsukishima pointed out with a sour look, but took the jacket.

Kuroo only grinned.

“So...” He attempted again after Tsukishima was successfully dressed and hopefully feeling a little bit warmer.

“You couldn't last at least a minute, even for decency's sake, could you.”

\- - -

He did last a minute. More than just one. Searching for words, for whats and hows.

“I'm sorry,” he said simply in the end, because he was. It was a feeling intricately woven into the tangle of disbelief and gratitude and elation, but it was distinct enough in its bitterness that burned the back of Kuroo's throat.

Tsukishima jerked his head up, looking startled. He couldn't possibly think Kuroo was that much of an asshole, could he.

Feeling very sober, Kuroo stood up, legs just a bit shaky.

“Where are you going?” Tsukishima asked, and bit his lip as if to take the words back.

Kuroo made a vague gesture with his hand, motioning to the street beyond their two-storey apartment complex. It wasn't like he had an actual destination, he thought. He had been quite content right there. “To the big wild world, to follow my—currently only—dream of finding something to eat.”

When he noticed Tsukishima stand up too, he raised an eyebrow, too afraid to voice the question. There were limits to how much wistful thinking a person could handle in one day, in one instance.

“You cannot be trusted in this state,” Tsukishima explained as he dusted off his pants with a mildly annoyed look. “Or any other.”

“Aww, Tsukki, I didn't know you cared.”

Kuroo was perfectly aware that this was just a silly banter between two not even friends, but it made him feel ridiculously warm all the same. Maybe, Tsukishima wasn't as—

“Considering my current luck, you'll break your neck and I'll end up being responsible for the hospital bills.”

“ _Ouch_.”

\- - -

Stepping into the wet misty chill of an early morning made Kuroo shiver. He sneaked a glance at Tsukishima, only to find him looking right back. Completely unprepared, Kuroo blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “You could always just hold my hand.” Tsukishima blanched and it gave Kuroo a pang of something unpleasant. “You know, to ensure you really don't get those bills.”

Tsukishima's smile was obnoxiously bright and fake. “Why, Kuroo-san, if you cared so much, maybe you shouldn't have dropped your drunk ass on my doorstep.”

“What can I say, even drunk my ass has impeccable tastes.”

Kuroo didn't feel particularly drunk anymore though. Breathing in fresh, cold air he felt just fine. His head was heavier than usual and occasionally it was a challenge to keep his eyes open, but other than that, he felt absolutely fine.

His stomach grumbled in disagreement.

Rubbing it through the thin worn layer of his shirt with one hand, Kuroo pointed towards the neat rows of mismatched houses and independent shops. “There's a convenience store that way, just a couple of blocks away. Should be open.”

With an affirming nod from Tsukishima, Kuroo steered them to the left and began walking down the gentle slope of the street, most of it eerily asleep. The streetlights were still on, their yellow glow lighting the path. But Kuroo would have found the way even in the dark, having taken the same road many times in the past for late-night snacks and coffee breaks. Tsukishima though appeared to be simply following Kuroo.

“Alright, Tsukki, it's time to confess.” He ignored the momentary change in the rhythmic sound of Tsukishima's footsteps. And the way his own heart skipped a beat. “What were you doing so late in the dark, all alone?” Kuroo could picture the annoyed expression on Tsukishima's face vividly, down to the tiniest details, but he sneaked an obvious glance anyway, only to marvel at how accurate the mental picture had been.

They passed an old man who was carrying a heavy load of wooden trays out of an old blue truck and into the bakery on the other side of the road. Kuroo gave him a friendly wave; his pork buns were the best.

“Studying?” Kuroo guessed, turning his full attention back to Tsukishima.

“So you do know about that part of college requirement.”

“So mean, Tsukki,” he said, heaving a dramatic sigh. “I'll have you know I'm doing just fine.” Except for statistics, but who needed those numbers anyway. “Exams?” His own had ended just yesterday, hence the impromptu party at Konoha's. One that wasn't initiated by Konoha himself, but that's what you got for having an apartment both big enough and close enough. And for making terrible choices in friends.

Kuroo felt pleasantly surprised when Tsukishima, even if reluctantly, said, “Just a paper. On Japanese lit, the compulsory one.”

He was doing that thing with his fingers again, Kuroo noted. Twiddling with them absentmindedly, just a couple of centimetres below the hem of Kuroo's borrowed jacket. Was he nervous?

Kuroo didn't want to ponder the reason for that, didn't want to feel neither hope nor devastation that always followed his encounters with Tsukishima, no matter how rare. “Ushijima-sensei?” He cast a pitiful look at Tsukishima. “Hang in there, Tsukki, one final paper and you're done. Forever.”

They took a sharp turn to the right, crossing to another street. This one was a bit wider and had a proper sidewalk on one side, but seeing as there was no traffic at this hour, Kuroo decided not to bother with it. They were close now.

“But as your senior,” he ignored Tsukishima's snort, “allow me to make your journey easier with the wisdom gained through terrific experience.” He closed the distance between them and lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper, “the key is to polish your sources as much as possible. The guy is OCD about this stuff. Do that, and you'll get yourself an average just like that.”

Surprisingly, Tsukishima looked considering at that. Listening.

That unusual look on his face made Kuroo rake his brain for more. “Oh, and titles! He likes them as non-nonsense as possible. Don't do questions, he loathes them with passion. In fact, he’d once had Bokuto redo the entire paper,” he paused, reconsidering, “though that might have had to do with the question itself.”

They reached the small convenience store then, with its brightly lit windows and glass doors that promised warmth and food and comfort. So far Kuroo had done exceptionally well ignoring the cold, but now that the temptation was right there, he felt the chill deep in his bones.

Just as Kuroo was about to open the door, Tsukishima stopped walking and looked straight at Kuroo, once again startling him with how young he could look when he let go. “Thanks,” he said simply, truthfully.

Through the crazy pounding of his heart and a warm feeling spreading up his neck, Kuroo opened the door with a lavish of a true gentleman. He even bowed, partially to hide the ridiculous grin that threatened to spill across his face. “After you.”

“You're so embarrassing,” Tsukishima scoffed, but the tips of his ears were pink. Or maybe it was simply the last remnants of cheap tequila and even cheaper beer playing tricks on Kuroo’s wistful desires.

He felt dizzyingly light and his throat was parched as he stepped through the doors after Tsukishima.

\- - -

Shuffling through the plastic bag, Kuroo contemplated. How much could he ask. How much could he pry. How much until Tsukihima would be spooked again, retreat into his own life, leave Kuroo waiting for another chance. A chance that might not come so he would have to plan and scheme and bribe in order to create one. If he didn't fuck it all up again, this time for real.

But he had had that exact same thought before, hadn't he. When he had taken too big of a step forward, right form the start, and watched Tsukishima take ten bigger ones back.

So he contemplated, taking slow meticulous bites of his sandwich for cover.

It had started raining at some point. A misty drizzle that wasn't enough to drench them, but would be uncomfortably unpleasant in the long run. Out of the store, they had sprinted across the road, towards a cluster of leafy trees cornering a playground on the other side.

Kuroo had discovered the place during his first month in the neighbourhood. Back then it had been old and steadily rusting, its creaking swings and chipping slides more appealing to teenagers playing hooky than any of the kids.

Then someone up high had decided to rectify that. With some reconstruction and heavy renovation, the first week of summer saw the park transformed into a bright rainbow coloured maze of attraction, favoured by both young moms and the neighbourhood children.

The park stood motionless now, frozen still under the weightless cloud of morning mist and the thin veil of rain. But not silent, as the drops of water fell on the yellows and greens and blues in a soothing sizzle.

Tsukishima leaned against the trunk of a big old cherry tree and immediately jumped away with a yelp when harsh dry bark bit him in the back. He glared at it, irritated.

“Not too used to the suburban wildlife?” Kuroo asked with a smile and took a sip from his Coke, watching Tsukishima from beneath his lashes. The sugar felt good, setting to work right away by coursing through Kuroo in a wild, magical wave of energy. He felt both awake and aware.

Tsukishima scowled, but his face retained its faint embarrassment. It was a good look on him, Kuroo decided. A very, very good one.

“The clerk at the store seemed to know you.”

The unexpected initiative surprised Kuroo so much he didn't even think about questioning the obvious change in topic.

He nodded and took another sip. “He sometimes plays volleyball with us. Oh, that's right, doesn't your brother play too? We ran into him and his friends a couple of times near the courts.” He tilted his head and gave Tsukishima a good once-over. “Hard to believe you don't.”

He’d never seen Tsukishima let out a smile so cynical. “Why, because of my height?”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s an irrelevant thing. Ultimately, there will always be someone taller.”

“That's where hard work comes to play.” There was something about the way Tsukishima’s expression kept turning so much worse with each word that made Kuroo equal parts intrigued and irritated. “Lost to someone taller than you, Tsukki?”

“I told you, I don't play.”

Whether it was true or not, it was hard to believe that this was all there was to volleyball in Tsukishima’s life, but Kuroo let it go. Small steps, he reminded himself.

He had initially thought that maybe his instant fascination with Tsukishima would fade once he actually got a chance to get to know him, or that perhaps that some sort of friendships would come out of this. He certainly wouldn't have minded a friend who enjoyed riling other people as much as he did, and who himself got riled up so ironically easily.

But there he was, months later, and way beyond simple curiosity.

He wanted to know more. He wanted to learn the right ways to tick Tsukishima off, the right ways to tease, and the right ways to please. He needed to know just what made Tsukishima let people in. Needed to know what he would find there, underneath the snarky comments and the sour looks.

_He was so fucked, wasn’t he._

Deep in the woes of unrequited young love, Kuroo looked solemnly at the sky above, and he saw it.

“Tsukki,” he said, not even bothering to hide his awe, “look!” There, on the horizon, from a grey mass of clouds the sun was rising up. The rays were too pale to lighten up the twilight and too insignificant to warm up the rainy air, but it was there.

Tsukishima's eyes widened just a fraction. "I didn't know it was this late—early—already," he wondered aloud. His tone didn't carry neither reproach nor regret, merely genuine contemplation.

Kuroo hid his grin behind the rim of the Coke can in his hand; he hadn't notices the pass of time either.

\- - -

The rain had ceased gently, easing down unnoticeably softly, until all what was left was the intoxicating mix of earth and grass and fresh air.

Kuroo stretched his tired arms out behind his back and yawned as he eyed the park. Spotting a trash can near a see-saw, he balled the plastic wrap in his hands and chucked it in. It went straight through the middle without touching the rims of the bin.

Tsukishima snorted, but it only made Kuroo’s grin wider.

There were a couple of benches scattered around the perimeter, droplets of water hanging heavy off their wooden edges. Too wet, Kuroo figured and stayed where he was.

“Hey, doesn’t that cloud look like a giant bunny to you? Like, ginormous giant.”

Tsukishima actually spared the thick gust of clouds Kuroo was pointing at a glance, then turned to look back at Kuroo. He didn’t even need to voice his opinion.

“Okay, sure, its ears are a bit uneven in size and its tail is really weirdly shaped, but... Maybe it’s a hybrid bunny. A bunny monster that is gonna eat everyone soon.”

“Bunnies are herbivores.”

“This is a mutated bunny,” Kuroo explained patiently. “A bunzilla. Hey, that could be a very cool movie name!”

“I don’t even know how you come up with this stuff,” Tsukishima told him. “And no, I don’t want to know either. What if it’s contagious.”

“You’re such a Tsukizilla.”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes and looked away to the side, but not quickly enough to hide the faint amused smile.

_Ah, damn._

The rational part of Kuroo knew that this was a bad, bad idea. He'd been there before, he knew very well how it was going to end.

But maybe he was wrong about being completely sober. Maybe a part of him was still high, on both tequila and Tsukishima.

Because he leaned forward and kissed Tsukishima. Just a light peck at the corner of his mouth, ephemeral touch of lips against each other.

He lingered, face close enough to Tsukishima’s for their breaths to mingle. Tsukishima, who wasn't pulling away, neither in disgust nor indignation. Tsukishima, who licked his lips and simply watched. Waited.

“You rejected me before,” Kuroo whispered before he could stop himself. Foolish, so foolish.

Tsukishima levelled him with a flat look. “You sent your crazy friend to ask me out.”

Kuroo winced. It wasn't one of his best moments, but he had been a desperate man with a desperate crush on his adorable, cute, downright infuriating underclassman whom he only knew through a friend of a friend.

In retrospect, that made Bokuto even worse of a wingman choice.

Kuroo swallowed. “So, hypothetically speaking…”

“Next time, don't send that person.”

Painfully aware of how dangerous such close proximity was, Kuroo pulled away and busied himself with the empty can he was still holding in his hands.

He didn't know what to make of the silence that fell. It wasn't necessarily awkward, not straightforwardly so anyway, but it wasn't fully comfortable either. Kuroo had no idea how to break it, or if he even should attempt to.

Tsukishima must have thought among similar lines, and didn’t that speak volumes. “Nii—” he paused, frowning. “Akiteru should be back from the hospital soon. You can call the locksmith from our place.”

Of course, Kuroo thought. The sun was already high, welcoming the new day. Kuroo felt very, very weary.

“Of course,” he repeated out loud.

\- - -

They did call the locksmith and it took the old guy some time to arrive. Kuroo was grateful for that; who knew when the next time with Tsukishima would be.

As the door to his and Kenma’s apartment swung open at last, he casted a wistful look at the door with the shiny silver ‘13’, a feeling of something terribly bittersweet washing over him.

_Next time, don't send that person._

Next time.

Kuroo crossed the space between the apartments in three giant steps and pressed the doorbell with more force than was strictly necessary.

It was Tsukishima who opened the door.

“Not even you could possibly forget your keys when the locksmith hasn't even left the premises yet,” he told Kuroo.

“Do you prefer tea or coffee?”

Tsukishima gave him a look. “Right now I prefer sleep.”

“Good, ‘cause I need to shower first anyway. So, tea or coffee?”

Something must have shown on his face, something Tsukishima liked, because he looked straight into Kuroo’s eyes and said, “Tea.”

“Then I know just the place.” Kuroo leaned up then, crossing the few centimetres Tsukishima had on him, and brushed his lips against Tsukishima’s cheek in a gesture too chaste and innocent to be a kiss. “Tomorrow, at five. I’ll pick you up.”


End file.
